


Watching Them

by semaphoredrivethru



Series: Watching [2]
Category: Actor RPF, Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, POV First Person, POV Outsider, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-13
Updated: 2004-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-03 14:12:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semaphoredrivethru/pseuds/semaphoredrivethru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watching Viggo and watching Orlando has become watching Viggo and Orlando.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watching Them

Watching Viggo and watching Orlando has become watching Viggo and Orlando. They are together both on set and off more often than not these days and sometimes I see others watching them, too. I can’t help but wonder if they see what I see, or if they just take it at face value, and marvel at how close they have become.

When Viggo stands next to Orlando in a crowd he lays his hand flat against the small of Orlando’s back. Usually, Orlando responds by throwing his arm around Viggo’s shoulders and they stand there calmly and naturally, as though Viggo’s thumb was not rubbing tiny circles on Orlando’s back, and every brush of Orlando’s fingers along Viggo’s neck and ear are pure chance. Then one will lean into the other, and whisper something. It seems innocent unless you notice that lips meet skin at every opportunity.

And I notice it. Of course, I know to look for it.

We’ve almost wrapped for filming and I think what I’ll miss the most will be watching them. I know it makes me sound like a stalker, but that’s not how it is. How often do you get the chance to watch two people go from strangers, to friends... to lovers?

And they are lovers, I know it. It’s not the lingering touches that tell me or the tender looks that they give when they think no one is watching. And it’s not the way their banter has more inside jokes or how their friends only smile knowingly when Viggo offers to give a not _that_ drunk Orlando a ride home, either. I know because I watch, and I see.

One afternoon, early on in the nine week shoot of the Helm’s Deep battle, I arrived at the set early. The night before had run well past dawn and I had left a bit of a mess that my supervisor would not like to see. And, to be quite honest, I had nothing better to do. I’d cleared my personal schedule – what little I had – for the shoot and I figured that, if I was awake and ready, I could at least get some work in. But we’re not talking about my workaholic tendencies, are we?

My mess cleaned up, I decided to walk around the set and make sure everything was as it should be. As I rounded a corner, walking carefully to avoid a large mud puddle, I heard a low chuckle from somewhere off to my right. From my long-standing hobby, I immediately recognized Viggo’s voice.

As quietly as I could, I climbed a nearby ladder to one of the crew catwalks. It gave me a perfect bird’s eye view of the nook that Viggo and Orlando were standing in.

They were both already in costume and the fibers Orlando’s blonde wig glinted in the fading light as he stepped closer to Viggo. Viggo reached up to toy with a few strands and murmured something too quietly for me to hear. I felt guilty about watching this private moment, but somehow I couldn’t will myself to leave. And then Viggo took a step closer, his hand cupping the side of Orlando’s face, and all thoughts of leaving this plateau fled.

I held my breath as I crouched on the catwalk, watching them as they slowly moved closer and closer. They were savoring the moment, I realized, almost as much as I was. Then their lips met, gently at first. It was heart-stoppingly beautiful, it was perfect; and then it deepened.

They clutched at each other, trying so very much not to muss their costumes as they tilted their faces to continue the kiss. A soft sound that might have been a moan drifted up towards me. Viggo moved one of his hands down between their bodies and I saw Orlando’s back arch in reaction. I bit my lip and waited for more to happen but I was disappointed. Instead, they parted slowly, their hands drifting along each other’s arms and torsos as the looked into each other’s eyes murmuring more things I could not hear. Orlando lifted one of Viggo’s hands to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. Then they walked away, shoulders squared as they consciously assumed their usual friendly distance.

I stayed there for a while longer, carefully tucking the memory away like a love letter wrapped in ribbon, to be brought out and savored in quiet moments. Eventually, though, I had to go. There was work to be done and watching to be had.

Now, when I watch them, I see so much more and I’m sure you’ll see it now too. It’s there for anyone who knows to look for it.

And I do.


End file.
